You’d think that working at a cafe I’d understand the definition of the word sweet, as it turned out, I did not.
At least, not until I got a taste of the man sweeter than the sugar mixed in your afternoon tea.
All it took was a wad of cash, a fancy dress, and thirty minutes of passion.
I, Peyton Sanders, am not—and never will be—a whore. I was stupid to agree to date some random dude from the Sugar Daddy app, even with the promise of ludicrous amounts of money.
But that dating app changed my life. After meeting my first client, my bitter mornings filled with caffeine and stale treats, were about to become a little sweeter…
I grinned like the Cheshire cat. My hips still moved as our breaths became more labored. Something stirred inside me, lighting a flame that had never burned. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight I can’t think straight.”
“You’re so thick.” The light in her eyes was animalistic and feral, and then she growled.
I couldn’t say for sure that it was the hitch in my grind or the patch of gravel we’d hit on the road, but whatever the fuck it was, this was the best feeling of my life. It was more than closing a multi-million-dollar deal or the pleasure I got from seeing profits triple in a quarter—Peyton had gotten inside me.
She lifted her hips fast. It was so sudden that it jarred me from my thoughts, and I slipped so deep inside of her that we became one, and the sudden rush of release overwhelmed me. Desperate for oxygen, I panted, allowing the precious air to enter my lungs, and with each gasp, euphoria washed over me. My face flamed with the burn of ecstasy.
“Surreal,” she finished.
I pulled out, and we used the tissues in the built-in dispenser between the seats to clean up. We were in the middle of tugging on our clothes when my pocket buzzed. I checked the text on my phone. My sister, Jessica, was blowing me up with alerts about our departure. I had five minutes left to get on the plane, and I currently still sat in the limo on the tarmac.
I cursed mentally as I buttoned the last few holes on my shirt. We had been at the airport—I didn’t know how long—and I had to sprint out of the vehicle to make my flight. I kissed Peyton’s cheek like she hadn’t just been the best lay of my life and flung open the door.
“Jake?” It was the last thing Peyton said as I dashed toward the waiting plane without so much as a goodbye.
I couldn’t slow down to tell her how amazing she was or how much I wanted to get to know her. I felt like shit leaving like I did, but if I missed this flight not only would my dad have my head but I’d likely be out of a job and my inheritance. Jessica waited at the bottom of the stairs onto the plane, holding our bags as she sent a glare my way, urging me to run faster.
“Hurry the hell up, Jake!” she shouted, and I sped up, making it last minute.
It was times like this that I wondered what the point was in having a private jet if we didn’t get to operate on our own schedule. When we finally got settled next to each other, I noticed the strange way my twin stared at me.
“What?” I asked, and she sneered.
“Why the hell do you smell like sex?”
I blushed, ignoring her question as I quickly turned my head toward the window, watching the ground as the plane began to take off.
My mind didn’t once stray from the young woman I met on the app and had just taken in my limo…
About Mila Hart:
It all started with two whores… MILA HART writes cheeky, erotic quickies. We have a whole year of amazingly sexy stories coming your way. STAY TUNED…
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